


the closet is a metaphor

by smallerthanzero



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Clothing, Gen, Gift Giving, people very carefully not talking about questionable childhoods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 04:37:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17176034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallerthanzero/pseuds/smallerthanzero
Summary: When Angus moved into the freshly minted Casa de Taakitz as the new ward of the most fashionable Bird and his shiny new boyfriend, Taako was expecting to learn some new shit about the kid. Of all the weird and terrifying possibilities, he wasn’t expecting Angus McDonald to own approximately four pairs of clothing.or, how to fill out a closet in a few easy steps with minimal crying.





	the closet is a metaphor

**Author's Note:**

> TAZ Gift Exchange 2018 for [artsytrickster](https://artsytrickster.tumblr.com/)!

When Angus moved into the freshly minted Casa de Taakitz as the new ward of the most fashionable Bird and his shiny new boyfriend, Taako was expecting to learn some new shit about the kid.

Maybe he was allergic to sunflower oil (Davenport, nearly a cause of death in Cycle 41). Or he cracked his toes obnoxiously when he got frustrated (Magnus, a habit that still hadn’t faded). Maybe he even cleaned those coke-bottle glasses of his with his tongue (Merle, once, and _gross_ ). Cha’boy had been dealing with weird roommates for over a century. He could handle anything.

Of all the weird and terrifying possibilities, he wasn’t expecting Angus McDonald to own approximately four pairs of clothing.

It was fancypants clothing, sure, folded neatly to avoid being crushed by the books that filled up the rest of the kid’s solitary suitcase, but _still_. Two neat little jackets, four crisply ironed shirts, and three pairs of knee-length shorts. And underwear and stuff, duh. Kid wasn’t a savage.

“Uh, little dude? Where’s the rest of your duds?”

Angus blinked up at him. “That’s it, sir! They’re pretty new, too, so they should last a while!”

Taako peered into the depths of the suitcase like it held the answers he was too cagey to ask for. “Three little detective outfits, huh? Cool, cool… how, uh, how’s that style rut working out for you?”

Angus had yet to take anything out of his suitcase, perching next to it on his bed and drumming his pristine loafers against the side. “Pretty well, I think. Most of the time I’m doing detective work – or reading cool stories and research, which is kind of like preparation for detective work! – so it’s less of a rut and more of a lifestyle choice. Like your hat!”

“My – okay, hotshot, I believe in your fancy detective language that’s called a false equivalence? Because my hat is in my – okay, it’s somewhere in the house, and you’re wearing your detective outfit right now, like you always do. It’s a signature piece versus only piece kind of deal, you dig?”

Angus was looking a little uncertain. “Oh, uh – if it’s not okay I can go get some more clothes, of course-”

“Well, I’m not _judging_ or anything,” Taako said, backpedaling a little at the look in those big brown eyes. “I just – just some thoughts cruising around in the ol’ brain pan-” He sighed. “Look, Ango, Lup and I had a bigger variety of clothing when we were kids, and our bar for a good childhood was five feet under the fuckin’ ground. Do you sleep in those?”

The kid’s eyes were saucer-wide. “I do, but – it’s not like that, sir! I can buy all the clothes I want!”

“Then why?” Taako gestured helplessly at the suitcase, billowy sleeves flopping. “Are they comfy? Is that it?”

“It’s what I’m used to, sir.” The words were careful – a little too careful – and Taako abruptly dropped his arms.

“Okay, Ango. At least you’ve got good taste in suspenders. Maybe you can teach Krav a thing or two, yeah?” He ruffled Angus’ curly hair and got a wobbly smile in return. Right, first day in a new house. Bad time to push.

Was it also a bad time to sweep the kid into his arms and promise him that everything would be okay? Signs pointed to yes.

Instead, he beckoned Angus out into the hallway. “I completely forgot, unpacking on an empty stomach sucks. Let me show you round the kitchen first, natch? I think there’s some cookies tucked in a corner somewhere.”

Three batches, in fact. He hadn’t been sure which kind Angus would like best.

Angus followed him down the stairs, loafers pattering against the wooden flooring, and Taako firmly decided to do the smart thing and let the clothes go.

~~~

“I mean – he’s only eleven, obviously his sense of style hasn’t solidified yet, but that makes it even weirder to have three of the _exact same outfit_ – Krav, what do kids even like to wear these days?”

Kravitz chuckled, snuggling closer against Taako’s hip. Taako could feel his nose pressing into his ribcage, but it wasn’t cold thanks to judicious application of a fuzzy sweater. See, clothes were important! “I think I’m the one person who would know even less about that than you, dearest.”

He groaned and flopped backwards onto the mattress. “I don’t get it. He has money. He has a closet that currently has about twelve items of clothing in it. Even you don’t wear dress shirts to bed.”

“I would have, if you hadn’t taught me better.”

“He’s had skin for more than three months, hon.” He huddled grumpily in Kravitz’s arms, resisting the urge to purr as his boyfriend played with one of his ears. “You think his parents made him wear that shit all the time?”

“I think he lives with us now and he can wear whatever he wants. Maybe he needs some options.” Kravitz hesitated. “Dearest, would you mind if I gave him one of those pajama shirts you bought for me? I think he might like them.”

Taako rolled over to plant a firm kiss on the first part of his boyfriend’s face he could reach – in this case, one of his jutting cheekbones. “You know how I feel about sharing clothes, there’s basically a portal between Lup’s closet and mine. Go wild.”

The next night, Angus was gently coaxed into sleeping in a Kravitz-sized flannel that fit him like a nightshirt. Taako and Kravitz each rolled up one of the overlong sleeves and sent him off to bed with an awkward hug.

Angus came downstairs the next morning with mussed hair and sleeves flopping around like tentacles, a soft smile on his face. “It’s so comfy!”

Taako’s heart had never exploded before – ooh, wait, it had. Cycle 83. This was a much better feeling.

~~~

Magnus came over the next week to finish installing the floor-to-ceiling shelving in Angus’ room – enough to hold all the books he currently owned, and room for the hardcover editions that the kid seemed to attract like they were magnets. He loped into the kitchen with confusion written all over his honest features. “Hey, Taako?”

“Mags! Here, hold this.” Taako shoved a plate of Magnus’ favorite dumplings at his face. Grinning, the fighter pulled up a stool to the kitchen island (of course there was an island, Taako was rich and this was his dream kitchen) and stuffed a dumpling into either cheek. “Where’s Ango?”

Magnus’ first reply came out garbled through layers of meat filling. He swallowed and tried again. “Reorganizing his books by color. He’s going to put ‘em back in alphabetical order though, says it’s the most efficient way to find information.” After a couple more bites, the confused expression was back. “Hey, after we finished the shelves I opened up Ango’s closet to see if the rolling ladder I installed in there needed any adjustments, and there’s like three of the same outfit and a flannel shirt in there? What’s going on?” His voice lowered to a loud whisper. “ _Is Ango McDango a nudist?_ ”

Taako stared at him for a moment, and then they were both laughing so hard that Magnus almost cracked his beautiful island under one pounding fist. Served him right if he did, he was the one who’d carpentered it into being in the first place. “No, oh my god, no,” Taako wheezed. He wiped his eyes, weirdly glad that someone else thought this was an issue. “That’s just… all the shit he brought with him? We gave him the flannel, even, he was sleeping in those fancy little dress shirts! We’re working on it.”

Magnus mulled that over for a bit as he took another bite of dumpling. “Huh… you don’t think he, like, threw out all his clothes so we wouldn’t make fun of him or something, right? Like he has to look fancy around us all the time?”

“I don’t think that’s it; he loves the shit out of that shirt Krav and I gave him, even though we bought him more that actually fit.” Taako extinguished the stove burners, sending all the dirty dishes to the sink with a quick spell, and hopped up on the counter. “I couldn’t get out of him exactly what’s going on, so I guess we’re just going to buy him more stuff and see what sticks. Don’t give him a hard time about it, capiche?”

Magnus saluted with his unused fork, stuffing more food into his mouth with his free hand. “Got it,” he mumbled enthusiastically. “I asked Ango if he wanted to come over and play with the dogs sometime, and he said yes. I’ll make sure I have some T-shirts and shorts or something lying around when he shows up, kay? The pups’ll chew on his suspenders.”

“And tell him to bring the clothes back with him,” Takko said imperiously. “I’ll wash them. God knows what kind of detergent you have in that zoo of yours.”

He was pretty sure Magnus caught the fond smile that clung to his face despite the harsh tone. “Don’t worry,” Magnus reassured, grinning warmly. “We’ll fill out his closet in no time.”

~~~

Word must have spread, because four days later Merle was knocking at his door with his two kids in tow. Mavis and Angus waved shyly at one another while Mookie attempted to eat the decorative macarons engraved in the vestibule wall. Merle was holding a box that he shoved in Angus’ general direction as he ambled in.

Angus caught the box, eyes wide. “Is this for me, sir?”

“Course it is, kid.” He gestured at Taako. “I’ve given this one enough gifts to last a lifetime already.”

“Quality over quantity, old man,” Taako scoffed, shaking Mavis’ hand and complimenting her obviously homemade headband. “Well, Ango? Open it and we’ll see if it’s trash or compost material.”

Angus lifted the lid off and tilted his head. “Uh… are they shoes?”

Taako peeked over his shoulder. “Merle, are these made out of plastic? Bright yellow plastic?”

Merle snickered. “They’re fantasy Crocs! Good for gardening, strolling on the beach, and adventuring! I figured you’d need more than just loafers now that you’re not. You know. Living on the moon.”

“Thank you, sir,” Angus said dubiously. Merle waved it off, scooping up Mookie and heading into the backyard – no doubt to criticize Taako’s herb garden. Mavis held out another box to Angus before moving to follow them.

“Sorry, that was-” she winced. “Well, not a joke, he really does wear them a lot, but we got these for you too!” Angus opened this box, struggling to hold both boxes in his small arms, and stared uncomprehendingly at a thick-soled boot and sneaker combination with flowers patterned neatly up the sides. “It’s a really good brand, me ‘n Mookie use them a lot and they’re waterproof and all, but they only make them with flowers ‘cause it’s a dwarf brand – is that okay?”

Angus hugged the box tightly to his chest, eyes shining behind his glasses. “They’re perfect! Thank you!”

Mavis smiled and hurried off to find her dad. Taako patted him on the shoulder. “Good for detective work, maybe?”

Angus frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe.”

The next day, Davenport messaged Taako on his Stone of Farspeech with a recommendation for cargo pants that offered “sufficient mobility” and “ingenuitive storage solutions”. After looking them up and grumpily considering the unflattering design, Taako bought Angus a pair on fantasy Amazon. Not everyone could pull off adventuring in a sandproof skirt.

~~~

 

Lup and Barry came to visit too, of course, Barry toting a stack of books that he handed over to Angus’ eager grabby arms and Lup sporting a backpack stuffed with messily folded hoodies and scarves and, for some reason, a kilt. While Barry, Kravitz, and Angus settled into a debate on the accuracy of one of the books (a necromancy text? Taako was going to have a chat with his brother-in-law), Lup dragged Taako into a hug and buried her face in his shirt. “Ooh, velvet! I love velvet, Ko.”

“I know, Lulu.” Four months into having a body again, Lup was still extremely prone to touching sprees -shirts, hair, the works. Taako couldn’t even begin to mind it. Her hands dragged over his back, reveling in the soft material, and Taako jumped as her fingers dug ticklishly into the edges of his ribs. “Hey!”

“Deal with it,” Lup teased, pulling back a little to look up at him. “We bought Ango some stuff. Think he’ll like it?”

“He’ll take it. We’ll figure out the liking part later.” Taako ran his hands through Lup’s undercut, fluffing up the ends. “How’s reaper biz?”

“Your husband’s a dork, but so is mine, so overall it’s pretty sick. We’ve stopped three separate cults from doing the same wildly incorrect necromancy spell, and I think the Raven Queen’s gunning to adopt us all.” She rummaged in her pocket. “Hey, Angus, got you one last gift!”

Angus ran over, Barry and Kravitz trailing in his wake. “Thank you, Aunt Lup!”

“This one’s not from us, actually.” Taako froze at her next words. “It’s from Lucretia.”

_It_ was a glasses case, plain and unmarked. Ango flipped it open and made a little excited sound as he tugged out a pair of silver-rimmed glasses. “Oh, they’re so cool – wait, they have my name engraved in Caleb Cleveland’s signature code!” Kravitz bent down to look at the neatly patterned lines and dots etched into the temples, smiling at Angus’ enthusiasm. Taako couldn’t move.

“They’ve got some spells on them too,” Barry added. “Better vision in low light, magnification options, stuff like that. There’s a note in the case that should explain it all.” He nudged Taako’s stiff arm, continuing in a softer tone. “I know, buddy. I checked all her spellwork over last night, and so did Lup. Even did an insight check to see if there’s anything she wasn’t telling us.” He paused. “It’s pretty good work, actually. I might ask her how to do the low light part.”

Slowly, slowly, Taako gulped in a breath. “They’re safe? You’re sure?”

Lup slid in next to him, taking his hand. “It’s okay, Ko. You said Angus needed new glasses anyway, right?”

“I could have made him some.”

She leaned in closer, resting her chin on his shoulder. “I know. But Creesh wants to spoil him too. She misses him.”

“She shouldn’t. She shouldn’t get to miss anything that’s – that’s _mine_.”

“ _Ko_ ,” Lup said, mildly warning. She didn’t have to say anything else. Taako kept breathing, trying to relax as he watched Angus and Kravitz laugh over some detail of the Caleb Cleveland books.

He and Lup had agreed, way back when. They were going to get rich and have fancy clothes and stuff that was _theirs_ , but you couldn’t own people, except for each other. Other people left. They died. They needed more than two gung-ho elves in their lives.

Angus looked back at him, grinning, and Taako abruptly realized that the kid owned a piece of him by now. A big, heart-size chunk. He’d do anything for him.

Maybe Lucretia felt the same way.

He could live with that. Probably. The kid needed as many adults as he could get.

Lup reached into her backpack one more time. “You know what else is good for a growing kid to have? Some nice sturdy pants, denim, maybe, in a cool neutral color that goes with a lot of shit-”

“Get out of my house.”

~~~

Sometimes kids did little, concerning things like not having enough clothing, and sometimes they did things like _getting lit on fuckin’ fire because their detecting led them to a death cult_.

Krav had portaled in, set a still-smoking Angus down on the couch as gently as his bony arms could, and promised to return in a couple hours after all the charging and paperwork were taken care of (“it’ll be fast, love, I promise, all three of us came for him. Don’t worry.”) Taako sat there on their living room floor, watching Angus pick charred dirt off a half-gone sleeve, and felt something in his brain tick just over this side of sanity. “Guess you’re down to two fancy shirts now, huh?”

Angus didn’t even look up. There were tear stains on his cracked glasses, probably from the pain of nearly getting torched. “I’ll write a letter to the shop in Neverwinter. They’ll send me a new one.”

“Uh huh. Got a system in place, right? You’re just going to buy the exact same thing again?” The kid fiddled with the cuff of his remaining sleeve and pulled out what looked like half of a lockpicking kit.

“Yes, sir.”

He set the tools neatly on the table – hooked strands of metal, a flat screwdriver – and Taako wanted to cry. Kids shouldn’t have that kind of stuff hidden up their sleeves. He and Lup shouldn’t have had to, back when they were his age. And Taako’s tried to do right by him, buying the kid shit with fun patterns and comfy fabrics that make him look like he’s not supposed to have a day job, but it wasn’t working. Angus didn’t feel safe, and he certainly didn’t _look_ safe with half his shirt gone up in smoke.

Taako fought to keep his voice neutral. “How’d you say they found you again? Your shoes slipped on some rock? That bright white shirt of yours get spotted in their death cave?” Oops, no, there went the hysteria. “Have you ever considered not wearing those stupid clothes when you’re sneaking around? You have boots, Ango! You have a fuckin’ camo shirt! I know you’re smart, why can’t you – did you even _think_ about bringing any of your new shit with you?”

Angus was staring at him: big brown eyes, big fat tears rolling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry, sir,” he whispered.

Yep, Taako Taaco was the shittiest person in the entire planar system, nay, the multiverse, and he’d just made the kid cry. “Ango-”

“I’m so sorry. They don’t fit.”

Wait, what? “They don’t – am I buying you the wrong size? Ango, what-”

Angus cried even harder. “They don’t fit! I keep buying detective clothes because I’m a detective, that’s all I am, I can’t be a normal kid like you want me to be!” Taako opened his mouth, more in shock than anything else, but Angus just kept on going “I can’t be normal, and wearing the clothes you and Mr. Kravitz get me just feels like p-pretending, and _they don’t fit_! And – and-” He was full on bawling now, the words barely making it out of his mouth. “And they won’t all fit in my suitcase, so I can’t take them with me when – when I have to _leave_ -”

Taako scooted over to him on his knees – he would fuckin’ crabwalk if it would get him closer to his kid – and tugged Angus off the couch and into his arms. “Oh. Oh, kid, c’mere.” He could feel his heartbeat, fast and frightened, and he rubbed his hand soothingly over the kid’s back to try and chase some of that raw terror out. “No one’s leaving. It’s okay.” He kept murmuring nonsense reassurances, telling Angus that he was the best detective and that his suspenders looked really cool and promising to buy him three more suitcases to put all his shit in and teach him how to Levitate them all until Angus gasped one last hiccupping sob into his damp shirt and went very, very, quiet.

Taako sighed wetly – oh, he was crying too now. Great. He patted Angus gently on the head and cleared his throat. “You still with us, buddy?”

Angus snuffled sadly and shook his head. Yeah, Taako got that. He hated crying in front of other people.

“Oookay. Well, when the old McDonald brain comes back online, can you pass a message on for cha’boy?”

This time, a slow nod.

“Cool.” Arms tightening a little around Angus’ crumpled frame, he rocked a little and thought. “You know Krav and I didn’t take you in cause we wanted a normal kid, right? Or because we wanted a master detective to figure out where all my left socks go off to every time I put a pair for washing. We wanted you, Ango. You and anything and everything that you want to be. This clothing shit? It’s nothing. I’m literally just trying to make sure you don’t wake up tangled in a pair of suspenders.”

Angus shook a little in his arms. He was pretty sure that was a giggle. “We’re not expecting anything from you when we give you stuff. Do whatever you want with it – hell, sell it! You know I love turning a profit.” Another giggle. “And another thing – that closet’s yours until the end of time. So is the room – keep anything you want in it. Don’t ever worry about fitting all your shit in a suitcase. You’re here for good, Ango.”

Angus looked up at him, finally, and promptly burst into tears again.

Taako didn’t do emotions, but he was also pretty sure that his kid was surgically attached to him at this point. He rolled backwards onto the carpet, Angus snuggled firmly into his chest, and told the kid about all the cool shit he was going to cook and/or buy for him until Kravitz finally portaled in again and shuttled their entirely exhausted family off to bed.

~~~

Candlenights came, cold and wet, and his family was mostly over the clothing gifts by now. Angus got a new little crossbow and enough books to last him for… a month, probably. Kid read like a speed demon.

Taako made them all sweaters – uniquely patterned, uniquely sized, but all with a little bird in IPRE colors perched upon the breast.

Kravitz took one look at the raven nestled in a knitted gray ribcage and scooped Taako into a twirling embrace. Taako tried not to look too pleased with himself, which was hard when Magnus and Lup wouldn’t stop hooting at them.

Angus stared unblinkingly down at his. It was patterned back to front in the outline of a frilly dress shirt, suspenders knit in with neat cables from shoulder to waist. Even a little breast pocket with a handkerchief embroidered in to complete the design.

And unobtrusively, stitched onto the pocket, a little rainbow bird. He was one of them.

Taako poked him in the back. “Well? You think it’ll fit?”

Angus’ voice barely made it through his small but genuine smile, hands fisted in the neat knitting. “Yeah. It fits perfectly.”


End file.
